


City of Mysteries: The Falcon Begins

by wsdsrdbw4096



Series: City of Mysteries [3]
Category: Scooby Doo - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-02-23 04:40:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23539234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wsdsrdbw4096/pseuds/wsdsrdbw4096
Summary: Sequel to Mark of the Werewolf and based on Batman Begins with elements from Batman Beyond's The Winning Edge and Volume 2 of Batman: Earth One.After a student player in Coolsville Central High School's football team receives a vicious beating, the gang dives deep into the case which leads them and their falcon ally on a collision course with a dangerous conspiracy. Please read and review!
Series: City of Mysteries [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1484720
Kudos: 1





	1. Prologue and a vicious beating

**Author's Note: Here's the second installment of my _City of Mysteries_ series, folks!**

**As the title suggests, this story is based on the 2005 film _Batman Begins_ and picks up where the previous entry, _The Mark of the Werewolf_ , left off with regards to the ongoing story arc.**

**In case anyone needs a refresher, _The Mark of the Werewolf_ left off with Fred shadowing the quarterback of the school football team and saw him dealing with a bunch of shady characters in exchange for what he believes to be performance-enhancing drugs.**

**That cliffhanger, in fact, is where the elements incorporated from** **the _Batman Beyond_ Season One episode _The Winning Edge_ comes into play, where long story short, the criminal conspiracy concerning the Blue Falcon involves match-fixing and drugs.**

**In addition to being based on _Batman Begins_ , this story also incorporates elements from Volume Two of _Batman: Earth One_ _._**

**In the meantime, after some deliberation, especially after taking notice of SpongeAddict's story _One for the Money_ and its sequel _Two for The Show_ , I have been thinking of discontinuing my _Streets of Coolsville_ in its current form and rework the story and series.**

**What I am planning on for the retooling of my _Streets of Coolsville_ series involves retooling the Coolsville setting in being similar to its depiction in my _Paranormal Instincts_ series with some modifications.**

**What sort of modifications are in store for this retooling of _Streets of Coolsville?_ All I can say is stay tuned!**

**I don't own _Scooby-Doo_. Hanna-Barbera Productions and Warner Bros. does.**

* * *

Chapter 1: Prologue and a vicious beating

_June 29, 1952_

It was a stormy night in Coolsville as nine-year old Radley Crown and his parents walked out of the Crystal Dale Theater after spending the past couple of hours inside watching _The Story of Robin Hood and his Merry Men._

Making their way down the street, Vincent Crown smiled as he and his wife Rebecca watched their son Radley playfully running down the street, imitating Robin Hood in shooting an arrow from a bow.

"Look at me!" Radley exclaimed as he raced down the street. "I'm Robin Hood!"

Vincent and Rebecca smiled at each other as Radley proclaimed, "And I will watch over those that can't defend themselves over any form of tyranny imposed by the Sheriff of Nottingham!"

Radley continued with his imitation of Robin Hood as the family of three made a turn onto Parkdale Alley, which is one of the frequent shortcuts the family has taken every night they went out for the movies.

Owing to defective lamp posts, the alleyway was quite dark and for quite some time, Vincent has been pushing for the city's Department of Public Works to repair the lamps without any response.

Adding to the gloomy appearance of the alleyway was how run down the neighbourhood was. For decades, the area was bustling with industrial activity, providing means for livelihoods for the predominantly-black and poor white residents.

However, as factories began to individually move to the suburbs and talks of constructing an elevated highway linking the city to San Francisco came through, the neighbourhood began to appear more run down as residents were evicted from the properties.

Vincent himself was vocally opposed to the construction plan, and he had campaigned on a promise to halt the project and invest further in the neighbourhood to head off the deterioration in the quality of life.

Election Day was still days away, but multiple polls conducted ahead of time has projected that he will win the mayoral election in a landslide and thus unseating the four-year incumbent Mayor Jefferson Dudley.

It was then that the mayoral candidate paused when he saw that Radley had stopped running, and his eyes soon settled on a man ahead of them.

There was something eerie about the man ahead of them, and Vincent promptly stopped in his tracks as the man discarded his cigarette and stepped forward from the dark shadows.

The man was wearing a light brown flat cap as he stepped out of the dark shadows, and almost instantly Vincent can see that he was armed with a pistol.

"I'm only gonna say this once." The man warned them as he stepped towards them with the gun trained onto Vincent. "Hand me yer valuables!"

Rebecca and Radley glanced towards Vincent in concern as he gently raised his hands with one hand reaching into his pocket.

"Take it easy." Radley said calmly. "I'm just reaching for my wallet."

The man frowned as he kept his gun on Vincent, who made no effort to pick up the wallet and dropped it onto the ground.

With his eyes and the gun still trained on Vincent, the mugger slowly knelt down to pick up the wallet before standing back up.

Noting the pearl necklace Rebecca was wearing, the mugger turned his attention towards the wife.

"As a bonus, I would like those pearls as well." The mugger declared as he turned his aim towards Rebecca.

What happened next became something that would continue to play non-stop in Radley's mind as he witnessed his father shoving her aside, only for the mugger to open fire.

In horror, Rebecca rushed over to Vincent's side as he collapsed onto the ground, during which the mugger seized her pearl necklace and fired another shot.

To Radley, everything in front of him was happening in slow motion out of a disaster film as he watched his mother falling to the ground, and his father only looked on as he laid on the ground.

"...Be...Becca..." Vincent rasped as life was slowly draining away from his eyes.

With his parents on the ground, Radley looked up at the mugger, who now had his gun on him.

There was something about the stare in Radley's eyes that unnerved the mugger, and his hand started to shake.

"Wh-what are yer starin' at, kid?" The mugger asked.

Radley simply maintained the stare on his face, and the mugger stuttered, "S-stop starin' at me like that, kid."

Taking a deep breath, the mugger steady his grip on the gun with his finger on the trigger.

Before the mugger was thinking of pulling the trigger, a loud voice suddenly shouted, "Hey!"

Believing that the source of the loud angry voice to be that of a policeman who no doubt must've heard the gunshots earlier, the mugger immediately took off running down the dark alleyway.

With the mugger gone, Radley turned back towards his parents who were both laying on the ground, the lives completely drained away along with the blood from the GSWs they've sustained in the mugging.

He was kneeling in front of their bodies when a man and a woman, both of whom were wearing uniforms, rushed towards him, during which the woman can be heard saying, "Oh, dear G**..."

"Never mind that, Wendy." The man accompanying her said as he noted the pool of blood at the scene. "Check on the boy and see if he's okay."

The woman nodded as she knelt down beside Radley and placed her hand on his shoulder, during which the man added, "I'm going over to get help."

As the man took off from the scene, the woman asked Radley gently, "My name is Wendy. I'm a nurse. Are you okay, son?"

Radley looked at her sadly, and she nodded and asked, "Your Mommy and Daddy aren't okay, aren't they?"

The young boy didn't respond, and Wendy rubbed him in the back to comfort him.

A closer zoom-in revealed the name plate on Wendy's uniform to read "Amon", and she has a red cross patch on the shoulder of her dress shirt.

* * *

A short while later, the alleyway became a law enforcement encampment as officers began scouring through the scene looking for evidence.

While Wendy continued to look after Radley, the uniformed man that had accompanied her earlier was speaking to the police captain.

"Look, I understand you're concerned about the boy's well-being, Captain Rogers." The police captain was speaking. His nameplate read "Strickland" and he certainly looked like he might've put on some weight. "Just let my men finish canvassing through the-"

"Canvassing." Captain Rogers repeated as he gestured towards the police officers that were strolling around the scene casually. "At what stage are they canvassing? Contemplative?"

Strickland sighed as Rogers continued, "Shouldn't they be interviewing witnesses? Someone's gotta have heard or saw-"

"Like I said, Captain." Strickland raised his hands up. "We're workin' on it, and besides, shouldn't a Marine Corps captain like you be over at what's-that-place commanding your men in fighting those f**king communists?"

"A matter a fact, I'm on shore leave." Rogers replied as he placed his hands on his hips and added, "And for your information, that place we're fighting at is called 'Korea', which was only recently liberated from the Japs five years-"

"Right." Strickland raised his hand again. "Even so, don't you know better than interfering with the way we investigate this-"

"Well, it just so happens that I'm also a police officer, with the NYPD may I add." Rogers cut in. "I know my way around a crime scene like that, not to mention that I am just about very much aware of what the protocols in crime scene investigation is-"

"Whatever you say." Strickland said. "H*ll, you're not even in your jurisdiction, so just stand back and let my men and I do our jobs."

Without another word, the police captain waved his hand dismissively at Rogers and turned to return to his men, and Rogers scoffed and shook his head at Strickland's retreating back.

As Rogers turned back towards Wendy, he scanned through the crowd, knowing full well that the culprit could be among the crowd watching the scene unfolding.

His eyes soon settled onto a red-haired man that was speaking to one of the police officers, and he held his eyes there as the man in question finished speaking and turned towards the scene, which is when their eyes met.

For a while, neither men moved as they engaged in some sort of a staring contest, then the man looked away as he was escorted by the officer to Wendy and Radley.

Wendy was in the middle of assuring the boy when the police officer and the red-haired man joined them, and she turned and looked up.

"Captain Amon, this is George Robert Nedley Blake." The officer introduced. "He has been named Radley Crown's guardian by the deceased."

Wendy only nodded solemnly as she stood up, nodded briefly at George, then she placed her hand on Radley's shoulder one more time.

"Stay strong." Wendy said before she marched off towards Rogers, who was watching them.

George's gaze followed Wendy onto Rogers, and the two men resumed their staring contest before the redhead curtly nodded and looked away.

Rogers only nodded briefly before Wendy joined him, and without another word, the pair promptly marched off.

* * *

_March 11, 1969_

Sam was staring at the photo of him and Wendy standing in front of the "Welcome to Coolsville" sign as he sat in his office in Coolsville Central that afternoon, during which memories of that encounter with the orphan Radley Crown flood back into his mind.

Even though it has been, what, almost seventeen years since he first step foot in this city and made that fateful encounter with the orphaned Radley Crown, the police lieutenant remembered the events as if they occurred the day before.

In the seventeen years since that encounter, a lot has happened to Lieutenant Sam Rogers.

After he returned home from the Korean War, Sam transferred to the reserves as he resumed his work in the NYPD, where he got promoted to detective and was assigned to the 9th Precinct in Manhattan South in '54.

A man of integrity who abides by a strict principle in his approach to police work, Sam soon find himself no stranger to controversy from his colleagues at work.

He frequently confided to Wendy about the bribes his colleagues would receive, and it was only a matter of time before his colleagues, and in particularly his commanders, would seek of ways to have him demoted or transferred out of the department.

That opportunity eventually came in 1961, when Sam became involved in a sting operation to foil a plot to rig the results of an upcoming special election for a vacant seat in the New York City Council, which saw him taking down several of his fellow officers in the process.

Following that sting operation, Sam got called to his captain's office, who conferred to him about a homicide table opening across the continent in the small city of Coolsville and convinced him to accept the offer.

Apparently, the captain seemed to be very much aware of Sam's preoccupation with the Crown murder case in Coolsville, especially given how diligently Sam's been trying to follow the progress of the high-profile cold case in his spare time in spite of being very much a continent away from Coolsville.

Thinking back on the captain's words that day, Sam only sighed and rubbed his eyes in exhaustion.

Things sure has only gotten even more busier for Sam since he and his task force closed the Werewolf case almost six months ago, not withstanding the windstorm that took down Chief Strickland in the fallout from the case.

As Sam has predicted, Rupert Gosnell, who replaced Strickland as chief of police, was nowhere better than his predecessor with Sam finding him to be as much of a politician and bureaucrat as Strickland was.

Even so, Sam figured that he has better things to do than worry about Gosnell breathing down his neck, and the past several weeks was an indication of that.

The detective bureau of the Central Division has find itself stretched as investigators caught case after case, and Sam has find himself having to keep track on the progress of at least a dozen cases.

At least he could leave those cases in the capable hands of his investigators, many of whom he knew needed the push from his arrest of Pistol to not be afraid to push the buttons of the corrupt establishment that has preyed off Coolsville for far too long.

Adding to that is that a couple weeks ago, he had another detective added to his roster of investigators in a move that has raised some eyebrows among the squad of the mostly-white detectives.

Detective Nelson McCormick was the latest addition to the Central Division's detective bureau, having had spent the past ten years down in Los Angeles at the homicide table of Hollywood, from what Sam had gathered.

The circumstances leading to McCormick's transfer to Coolsville were murky, though Sam gathered that McCormick was involved in an incident where he jumped at a supervisor who didn't fully appreciate his skills as an investigator during a case down in LA.

Apparently, there are plenty of those in blue that have issue with the colour of McCormick's skin, his supervisor in LA included.

 _Leave it to me to prove to the brass that the non-whites are just as capable as their white peers._ Sam scoffed as he thought to himself. _What the h*ll is wrong with those people? They'd never know how capable these very good men are just because of the colour of their skin._

Having McCormick partnered with Detective Chan, Sam soon began referring to them as his "Dynamic Duo" as a result of their ability to get cases done with remarkable results.

Sam was put out of his thoughts as Chan and McCormick approached his office door and the former knocked on it gently.

"That the casebook for the Weiner Case?" Sam asked in greeting.

"Indeed, sir." McCormick nodded as Chan handed him the casebook. "Wrap-up investigation and paper work all completed."

Sam took the casebook from Chan, put on his glasses, flipped the book open and scanned the case summary at the front page, then he looked towards the duo.

"Excellent work, gentlemen." Sam said. "Don't suppose that the culprit is going to see the light of day outside of bars again, eh?"

"I don't think so, sir." Chan shook his head. "Not after what he's done, only hope is that the judge agrees and keeps him locked up."

"Hmm." Sam grunted. "Anyways, better for you both to call it a day, eh?"

"Indeed, sir." McCormick nodded as he and Chan took their leaves. "See you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow." Sam nodded back.

After the two investigators have left, the lieutenant sighed as he put back on his glasses and resumed reading the casebook.

A short while later, Sam glanced at his watch and, upon noting the time, decided to call it a day.

On his way out of the station, Sam stopped by the watch commander's office, where Sergeant Daniel McBride was reviewing a deployment chart.

"Callin' it a day, sir?" McBride asked in greeting.

"Yeah, think I've seen enough from what my guys has reported for the day." Sam replied. "Getting slower, though."

"Which couldn't come at a better time." McBride nodded. "I've been trying to juggle my guys around, we're gonna be short on the desk for the next couple weeks."

Sam nodded. With officers on sick leave, vacation or court appearances, McBride has to juggle officers around by pulling them off the desks and onto patrol cars for deployment, which leaves a skeleton crew to handle any form of calls, especially if said calls were tips for ongoing cases.

"Appreciate the heads up, sarge." Sam said before he glanced at the time on the clock and added, "I better be off now."

Before McBride could respond, their idle conversation was interrupted by the telephone, and the sergeant promptly reached over to answer it.

"McBride, Central Division watch office." McBride responded, and Sam promptly paused and turned around, in time to see the look on the sergeant's face turn serious.

"Oh, is that right?" The sergeant asked. "G**amn. I'll be sure to dispatch someone to the scene right away."

"What's going on?" Sam asked as the sergeant hung up the telephone.

"Victim of physical assault found on Friedman Road, just near the crossing with Constitution Boulevard." McBride reported. "Concerned citizen has called for an ambulance."

"Hmm..." Sam grunted. "Have a patrol team track down Detective Silverman and have them meet me at the scene. I'm heading straight over."

* * *

"It happened...so fast." The victim reported as Detective Silverman jotted things down on his notebook. "H*ll, I didn't get...a good look of...the fiends that did this."

As Sam looked on and surveyed the scene, the victim was in the process of being loaded onto an ambulance while Silverman was jotting down notes.

Several patrol officers were securing the scene and looking out while Silverman's partner Welker was conferring with crime scene investigators that were pouring through the scene for evidence.

Just then, Silverman called over to Sam and reported, "Sir, the vic would like to speak to you."

"Oh?" Sam arched his eyebrows as he joined Silverman at the ambulance.

Turning towards the victim, the lieutenant asked, "What is it that you would like to speak to me about, son?"

"I...know that your son...doesn't think of me...highly 'cause of what...I did..." The victim winced. "But let him...and his friends know...that the hooligans that...did this...warned me that...if I don't follow through with..."

Before the victim could continue, he started coughing, prompting the paramedic to step in.

"Save your strength, son." Sam urged. "You are gonna need the rest-"

"No, you need to...hear this, sir..." The victim cut in. "There's some sort of...match-fixing goin' on...in our high school football matches...and the hooligans that did this...wanted me to throw the match against...Ridge Valley."

"Which you refused." Sam interjected as Silverman looked on.

The victim nodded. "Wasn't gettin' my...fair share for throwin' the past...couple matches as...promised. Wanted out, and...you know the rest..."

* * *

The minute Sam returned home, he marched straight to the kitchen and reached for the telephone.

Shaggy, Scooby and Maggie all stood by, knowing better than to ask, given that the look on Sam's face says it all.

Without missing a beat, the lieutenant dialled a number and placed the ear piece by his ear.

When the party at the other end answered, Sam was straight to the point.

"Hey Jones." Sam said. "You may wanna let your son Fred know that Randolph Herring is currently in the ICU at the Coolsville General after being subjected to a vicious beating in an alleyway."

* * *

**Please read and review!**


	2. In the hospital and more flashbacks

Chapter 2: In the hospital and more flashbacks

_March 12, 1969_

"I really shoulda seen this comin', Fred." Red said hoarsely as he laid flat on his hospital bed while Shaggy, his father Sam, Fred, Velma and Daphne looked on.

It was a cloudy afternoon as the group got together after school to make the visit, and neither of them could've anticipated just how roughed up Red looked.

The jock was practically wrapped up with white bandages, and he had his left arm and forehead wrapped in a cast.

Fred winced. "Can you recall any particular details on the bastards that did this to you, Red?"

"I could if this poundin' headache goes away." Red winced. "For all I know, the motherf**kers that did this to me were very h*llbent that I don't rat out Troy."

"Troy?" Shaggy arched his eyebrows as Velma and Daphne glanced at him. "He's involved in this mess? The beating itself I mean."

"No, no." Red shook his head softly. "Troy's too much of a wimp to touch me, but that hasn't stopped him from teaming up with those goons to make himself look tougher."

"Well, if I recall correctly, you guys have always been accusing me of supplying painkillers to Troy, even though there's no darn way I wanna be anywhere near him." Shaggy said. "Has he always acted the way he does after he gets his hands on painkillers?"

"He does, Shag." Fred nodded. "Though considering the slam that other day, I highly doubt it came from those painkillers that he's been taking."

"Or maybe he was taking them to offset whatever side effects that comes with whatever he took that gave him the ability to make that slam." Velma offered.

"Is it actually possible?" Daphne asked as they turned towards Velma. "Whatever physical enhancing drugs Troy's taking has the potential for side effects that would require painkillers to neutralize them?"

"It is." Velma nodded as she adjusted her glasses briefly. "From what Fred gathered, the PEDs that Troy's been supplied with has side effects that includes muscle spasms, spasms that are quite severe that only painkillers could mitigate the pain."

"Except that once he take those painkillers, it leads into a cycle of dependency where he could be using other drugs to offset the side effects from the painkillers." Shaggy pointed out. "Almost like...what I went through after that accident..."

"Sounds like it, Shag." Daphne said as the others nodded in agreement.

"But the beating you received goes further than the performance enhancement drugs Troy was taking." Sam interjected.

"Indeed it does." Red nodded. "What, with the match-fixin' goin' on lately."

"Just who do you think benefits the most from all this match-fixing, Mr. Rogers?" Velma asked as they turned towards the lieutenant.

"It is a very lucrative field for the mob, especially with the likes of 'Big Bob' Oakley." Sam replied. "In fact, he's been having this smuggling racket going on for the while, flooding the county with drugs."

"Sounds like Troy's hardly the only one involved when you put it this way, Pops." Shaggy remarked.

"I won't be surprised if that is indeed the case." Sam nodded.

"Isn't there something you could do to combat all of this, Lieutenant Rogers?" Fred asked.

"I could, if I have jurisdiction in Crystal Cove County as well." Sam frowned. "As far as I'm concerned, every time my men and I make a move to shut down Oakley's operations and racketeering in the city, they just pop it back up outside city limits, and as long as the county sheriff sits on his a** all day and do nothing, much like ex-Chief Strickland does, my hands are practically tied, especially when we don't have any form of leverage on Judge Thomas."

* * *

When visit time was over, the group made their way out of Red's room, during which Daphne spotted a family friend at the waiting area nearby.

"Uncle Radley?" Daphne called out, and the man turned around.

Recognizing Daphne, Radley Crown smiled and walked over towards them. "Daphne."

"Guess Dad's busy with work as usual, so he asked you to pick me up after I finish my visit here." Daphne remarked.

"Afraid so." Radley nodded. "You know him."

Daphne nodded before she turned towards the group and added, "Uncle Radley, these are my friends. Fred Jones, Velma Dinkley, Shaggy Rogers and his father Sam."

As Velma and the boys exchanged greetings with Radley, Sam frowned slightly when he thought that Radley looked familiar.

Likewise, Radley blinked when he saw Sam and thought that the lieutenant looked familiar.

"So I gathered that you only recently returned home after some travel, Mr. Crown." Sam remarked after the introductions were over. "How did you like it overseas?"

"Oh, it was fine." Radley replied. "Just...plenty of studies abroad."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "What sort of subjects?"

"Chemistry, psychology and some social sciences." Radley replied with a shrug.

Sam felt that there was more to Radley's travels than he was letting on, though the lieutenant merely shrugged off the feeling.

"Anyways, let's not keep your mother waiting, Daphne." Radley said.

"Right." Daphne nodded before she turned towards her friends and said, "See you guys at school tomorrow."

"Yeah, see you, Daph." Fred nodded as Shaggy and Velma waved their hands.

As Radley led Daphne down the hallway, he glanced into Red's room briefly and caught a glimpse of the cast he was wearing on his left arm.

The sight of the cast on Red's left arm instantly reminded Radley of something that happened to him a long while ago - in fact, almost twenty years ago - before his parents' deaths.

* * *

_April 14, 1950_

Jenkins gently poured a cup of tea into Vincent Crown's mug as the duo, along with a visiting George Blake, watched seven-year old Radley play with his kite at the manor's large front yard.

"Thank you, Jenkins." Vincent nodded profusely as he took the mug and sipped on the tea.

Jenkins nodded before turning towards George. "Anything to drink, Master George?"

"I'm good, Jenkins." George added as he waved his hand. "Thank you. Perhaps you could go in and check in with Rebecca and Elizabeth."

Jenkins nodded and bowed before he took his leave, and George turned towards Vincent once the front door creaked close.

"I don't mean to question your decisions, Vince." George spoke. "But are you sure you know what you're doing?"

By asking that question, George was referring to Vincent's decision to throw his name in the hat and run in the mayoral election, which is scheduled to take place in two years time.

"Coolsville needs a new vision, George." Vincent replied matter-a-factly. "You know as much as I do that Dudley hasn't accomplished squat in his ten years as mayor, even as the rest of the country continues to move forward with the post-war boom. H*ll, with the segregation in place in Crystal Cove, I often thought that we were the Deep South even though the city doesn't rely on agriculture the same way the segregationist Deep South does."

"Of course." George nodded. "It's beyond me why the h*ll are we continuing to purposely deny black people the same opportunities as us when all it does is reinforcing the narrative that they're better off as slaves."

"No kidding." Vincent agreed. "As Americans who has signed onto the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, we _**should** _be doing better than what we are doing right now, especially when our treatment of blacks and other non-whites gives them Soviets further justification to their narrative that a communist revolution worldwide is the only way forward."

"After seeing what's going on in Soviet Russia under Stalin's iron fist, I shudder to think." George said. "H*ll, I'd rather be dead than red, but that doesn't mean we _**shouldn't**_ be implementing new, progressive ideas to move our country forward and prove ourselves to be better than the Soviets."

"Indeed, which is another reason why I'm throwing my name in the ring." Vincent said. "While millions starve under Stalin's iron fist, who's to say that we're the ones to judge others when our own segregationist ideals are basically putting black people and non-whites in the same situation as those being cracked down by Stalin?"

"Right." George nodded. "Now, I know you've got the connections and resources necessary to mount a campaign, Vince, but does that mean you're actually ready to govern Coolsville when you do make it to the Mayor's Manor? Running a city government is different than running a business."

"I am well aware of that, George." Vincent interjected. "There's-"

Before Vincent could finish, he and George's conversation was interrupted by a very loud shriek coming from the tall tree in the front yard.

The two men turned towards the source, in time to see little Radley landing on the ground clutching his left arm in pain.

"Radley!" Vincent exclaimed as the two men promptly got up and rushed over to the boy, who was crying in pain.

"Radley." Vincent repeated as they reached the seven-year old and comforted him. "What happened?"

"Th-th-that falcon..." Radley sobbed as he pointed upwards.

"What falcon?" Vincent asked, during which he noticed a rather nasty-looking scratch on the boy's left arm.

"Up...there with the...kite..." Radley cried as George looked up.

"Oh, I see what the problem was." George said. "The kite is stuck on the tree, right near where a falcon's nest is at."

"And you climbed up the tree to retrieve the stuck kite, didn't you?" Vincent asked, and the seven-year old nodded.

"Explains a lot." George nodded just as Jenkins and Rebecca came rushing out of the manor.

* * *

A short while later, Radley was in the process of being patched up by a doctor in a clinic after George and Vincent explained what had happened.

"Well, I gotta say." The doctor remarked as he looked over Radley. "You sure got spirit climbing up the tree like that, kid."

"He does." Vincent agreed. "Though after that scare, I highly doubt he'll climb another one."

"Indeed." The doctor nodded. "Not after he took quite the scratch from a protective mother falcon, followed by the fall from the tree branch."

For the most part, Radley winced but didn't say a word while being patched and stitched up, though he certainly looked embarrassed.

Taking a fall from a tree in order to retrieve a kite that got stuck near a falcon's nest. The seven-year old wasn't sure what could've possessed him to climb up the tree the way he did when he could've called for help from his father after his kite got stuck.

As if knowing what was in the boy's mind, the doctor said, "There's nothing to be embarrassed about the fall, kid."

"At some point, we all have take a fall." George nodded as Radley looked up at him. "When that happens, all we need to do is figure out how to pick ourselves up."

"That's the only thing that matters when we've taken a fall." Vincent agreed. "The more you learn, the stronger you become and the easier it is for you to pick yourself up when you take another fall the next time."

After Radley was patched up and wearing a sling, the doctor summoned an intern, instructing him to obtain the prescription to take care of the lingering effects Radley is suffering from the fall.

"Right away, Dr. Bell." The intern nodded before he turned away.

As the intern walked towards the pharmacy stand, the scene zooms onto his credential tag, revealing his photo and the name Leon N. Zin.

* * *

_March 9, 1961_

Robert "Big Bob" Oakley, arguably one of the most powerful mob bosses in Crystal Cove, was busy reading the newspaper as he waits from his order in a high-end restaurant in downtown Coolsville when he saw four of his enforcers carrying a figure right towards him.

"Well, well, well." Oakley remarked as he put the newspaper down and turned towards his men. "What do we have here?"

The four men let go of the figure, who went down onto his knees briefly, prompting one of them to kick him in the butt and barked, "Get up!"

The figure stood up and brushed himself, revealing himself to be the now-18-year old Radley Crown, prompting Oakley to arch his eyebrows.

"Well, I'll be d*mned." Oakley said. "If it isn't the Prince of Crystal Cove himself, Radley Crown. What's he doing here?"

"Saw him picking a fight with one of our hold-up men, boss." The first enforcer reported. "Also claims that he has a message for you."

"That a fact?" Oakley drawled as he turned towards Radley, who nodded.

"Just wanted you to know that not everyone in Crystal Cove, yours truly included, is afraid of you." Radley said.

"Hmph, only those that know me, kid." Oakley scoffed before he gestured around and continued, "Look around you. You'll see the Speaker of the City Council, a couple of business officials, off-duty cops and a judge."

Then, without warning, the mob boss nodded at one of his enforcers, who promptly pulled out a switchblade and placed it by Radley's neck.

As Radley gagged, Oakley continued, "Right now, I could order Eddie here to slice your neck like cheese, right in front of those witnesses, and they'll just carry on with their business as if we were never even here."

"Only because they're afraid of you." Radley said defiantly. "I'm not."

Oakley chuckled humourlessly. "So naïve. Just what makes you think you've got nothing to lose, huh? You really think you charge at me with your arms swinging without any blow back when you still have the Blakes and their old butler supporting you?"

The mob boss slammed his fist onto the table at the last remark, and Eddie pressed the blade harder into Radley's neck, only for the blade to suddenly switch off.

"You really think you've seen the ugly side of life after your parents were shot, but the fact are, you don't." Oakley continued. "You never experienced desperation, and being Radley Crown, the Prince of Crystal Cove, you would need to travel hundreds, if not thousands, of miles out of the state to find someone who never heard your name."

Radley only exhaled before Oakley said, "So don't come barging in with your arms swinging up high, expecting me to help you prove something to yourself, not when you don't have a firm grasp of how this world _**really** _works, and most certainly not when you think you've mastered what you fear the most."

Waving his hand dismissively, Oakley returned to his paper as his men quickly grabbed hold of Radley, who began to struggle against their hold.

Turning back towards Radley, Oakley scoffed before he said, "Well, what do you know? You sure got spirit, kid, in fact, more so than your old man if I may say so."

As Radley gritted his teeth, Oakley added, "You know, all those years ago, word got around fast shortly after your parents were popped with lead, and I gathered that just before your father got popped, he begged for mercy. _**Begged**_. Just like a pathetic dog."

At that particular remark, Radley growled and managed to lurch forward, shouting, "I'll-"

Oakley only stared back at him as his henchmen managed to hold him back and stopped him from launching into the attack, then he waved his hand dismissively as he returned to the paper once more.

"Get his stinkin' carcass outta here." He said without turning to face Radley once more, and his four men complied as they swiftly dragged the struggling Radley out of the high end restaurant.

* * *

"Just what the h*ll were you thinking, Radley?" George demanded later that night as Radley laid on bed while Jenkins tended to him. "H*ll, were you even thinking when you charged into the high-end restaurant with your arms swinging to give Oakley a piece of your _**d*mn**_ mind?"

"Oakley knows more about my parents' death than he's letting on." Radley said. "You know it as much as I do. My father was a leading contender seeking to unseat Mayor Dudley in the election, and it's practical knowledge that Dudley, along with dozens of stooges at City Hall, are practically in Oakley's pocket."

"Yes, I am well aware of that, Radley." George snapped as Radley winced briefly in pain. "But just what the f**king h*ll were you trying to prove? You're not afraid to call Oakley's bluff? Or that you could track down your parents' killer and administer your form of justice? Sounds like whatever you've got in mind is revenge, not justice."

"My parents' killer has been out there on the street for far too long, George!" Radley shouted as he briefly got up. "You don't think that nine years is _**too f**king long**_ for them to get the justice they need?"

"And just what do you think you will accomplish by killing the man responsible once you do track him down?" George countered. "Does that bring your parents back?"

"No, but at least it gets them the justice they deserve." Radley replied.

"Not when revenge is about making yourself feel better in the short term while justice is about harmony." George said. "And besides, I hate to defend that weasel, but he's got a point here. You really think that the death of your parents is the worse possible thing that could happen to you? Not when you still have your family fortune."

With a scoff, George continued, "H*ll, I've been in combat during the war and trust me, the death of your parents is a walk in the park compared to what I've saw during the war, especially when our enemy in the Pacific engages in battle with a 'take no prisoners' approach."

"What's your point?" Radley asked.

"My point is, right now Oakley and his lackeys are practically untouched by the law, and they're getting away with squeezing the county's most-disadvantaged out of their wealth for years." George said. "And as long as people like him stay rich while good people like your parents scared out of their wits, nothing is ever gonna happen to that _**f**king** _weasel."

By this point, Jenkins had finished tending to the injuries Radley received from his encounter and packed up.

"I'll be in the living room if you need me, Master George." The butler said.

George only nodded and shortly after the butler left the room, he said, "You wanna track down and kill the man responsible for your parents' deaths? By all means, be my guest. Will that solve all your problems? In the short term, maybe, but in the long term?"

Inhaling, George gestured towards the nearby window and said, "Your father has visions to build this city and Crystal Cove for the better, Radley. Not just for you or your children and their children, but also for the Crystal Cove's disadvantaged. However, if you think this mindset of getting revenge for your parents' deaths works out well for your future, then you're greatly mistaken."

Turning back towards Radley, George continued, "Because as long as good people like us do nothing or engage in petty acts that people like Oakley get away from, what sort of future does Coolsville and Crystal Cove have?"

Then, as the redhead made his way to the door, he turned around and added, "Your father would be _**very** _ashamed of you."

With that, George slammed the door shut, leaving Radley alone to his thoughts as he digested the night's events.

* * *

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	3. In solitary and a break-in

**Author's Note: The timeline of Dimension Seven, while having the dark and gritty depiction of the world that is close to real-life, has some alternate settings that are different from the real world.**

* * *

Chapter 3: In solitary and a break-in

_November 23, 1963_

The temperature in Radley's prison cell was very unbearable, at 23 degrees Fahrenheit (-5 degrees Celsius) at sunrise, though he figured that he shouldn't be complaining, judging from the quest he had decided to enlist himself into.

With the prison located in the remote areas of Tibet, the ground outdoors was largely covered in snow and ice.

The sun was barely starting to rise, and the prison guards were already banging their batons on the cell bars and barking orders, ordering everyone to get up.

"你們這群畜生給我起來!" (Wake the h*ll up, you useless pieces of s**t!) One of the guards was heard yelling towards the prisoners imprisoned in the cell across the hallway from Radley's.

He hardly had much sleep the night before, considering the cold nights and worn-out blankets issued.

Several minutes went by before the alarm blared and all the cell doors opened, during which the prison guards barked, "點名時間!" (Roll call!)

At the barking, all of the prisoners emerged from their cells, most of whom with sleep still in their eyes.

Radley and his cellmate were among the small number of prisoners that emerged from the cells without protest or any form of reluctance. As far as Radley's concerned, it's just another day in the notorious prison.

The cold weather was also a reminder of the state of the conflict between the Communist East Bloc, led by the Soviet Union, and the capitalist, democratic countries led by the United States, and it was a conflict that came dangerously close to igniting just a year ago off the coast of Cuba.

While the state of the conflict between the two rival blocs remained as cold as the weather, there were several more heated conflicts elsewhere in other parts of the world that functioned as proxy conflicts.

Among the proxy conflicts included the Korean War, and by extension, the Chinese Civil War that dragged out until 1953 when it ended with a ceasefire.

It was a civil war that ended with the communists controlling the north while the Nationalists controls the south and the west, Tibet included.

In spite of the ceasefire, there were still some occasional skirmishes between the warring factions, as evidenced by the occasional bombings heard in the distance from the prison.

"You cold?" Radley's cellmate asked.

Radley shook his head as he gently gripped his left arm. "No, just another dream reminding me how I got my scar."

His cellmate nodded slowly. He looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn't say anything, perhaps on account of the language barrier that exists between Radley and the rest of the inmates.

In referring to the scar on his left arm, Radley was reminding himself of the nasty fall he took years ago when he climbed up a tree and got scratched by an angry mother falcon when he got too close to the falcon's nest located near where his kite got stuck.

His left arm healed poorly, and a subsequent infection to the wound left a permanent scar, and while the scar itself has faded with time, it announces itself whenever Radley stretches his left arm, which he tries to avoid.

While the scar doesn't hurt much as it did in the initial weeks following the infection, it does get itchy from time to time, especially if the surrounding temperature is very hot or cold.

As Radley gently scratches his left arm, he glanced around and noticed one particular muscular inmate, complete with tattoos on his biceps, was staring at him.

There was something unsettling about the grin on that inmate's face, though if Radley was slightly intimidated by the vicious grin, he didn't show it on his face.

* * *

A short while later, the inmates were lining up at the outdoor canteen for breakfast, though as far as Radley's concerned, he wasn't sure if the "stew" served was even edible, and even if it was edible, it wouldn't do much good in filling the inmates' growling stomachs.

As per usual, there was a long lineup to the canteen, and Radley and his cellmate glanced around as they each grabbed a metal bowl.

All of the other inmates were staring at Radley intently, as if he was a piece of meat, and there were heavily-armed guards standing around and ready to leap into action should trouble arise.

During this time, Radley's cellmate spotted the muscular inmate from earlier motioning to approach them and turned towards Radley.

"Don't look, trouble ahead." He said to Radley. "He fight until you dead."

"You mean he's looking for a kill before breakfast?" Radley asked, just as the inmate marched towards him menacingly and shoved the bowl off of his hands, spilling the stew.

"You are in h*ll, little man." The inmate declared before he threw a punch at Radley, prompting the inmates lining up behind him to step backwards as he stumbled backwards from the punch.

As Radley readies himself, the inmate continued, "And in here, I am many things. First and foremost, I am the devil!"

He then proceeded to throw another punch at Radley, only for him to catch the fist with both his heads.

"Correction, you're not the devil." Radley drawled as he glared at the inmate. "You are practice, first and foremost."

Without waiting for a reply from the inmate, Radley swiftly replied with a kick to the man's groin, sending the man crouching down in pain.

With a glare, the man tried to respond in kind with another attempt to deliver a punch towards Radley, only for Radley to grab his fist and headbutt him before shoving him towards the canteen stand.

At the collision, the man promptly went down while several more utensils and metal bowls crashed onto the ground from the impact.

Almost immediately, several more inmates, presumably in strong cahoots with the muscular inmate, immediately charged towards Radley, and it didn't take long before the fighting led them onto a cold, muddy puddle following some shoving and kicking.

In spite of being outnumbered by the inmates that charged at him, Radley held his ground as he delivered several kicks and punches that sent the inmates tumbling towards the ground.

There were a couple who were relentless and refused to go down without a fight, and there were instances where the scuffling between Radley and them were more like wildcats fighting wildly.

Eventually, the nearby prison guards rushed over to step in and break up the fight, having had seen enough of the action.

One of the guards was armed with a shotgun, and he fired several several shots towards the air as he and two more guards rushed into the fray to break up the fight and grab Radley by the arms.

"現在是你被單獨困禁的時間!" (Time for solitary confinement!) The guard armed with the shotgun barked at Radley as he was being dragged away.

"Isolation." One of the two guards dragging Radley translated.

"What for?" Radley asked.

"Protection." The guard stated simply.

Radley frowned. "I don't need protection."

Immediately, the guard nodded towards the inmates Radley had knocked out earlier as he said, "Protection for them!"

* * *

A short while later, Radley was shoved through the door to solitary confinement and he stumbled briefly as the guards slammed the door shut behind him.

Picking himself back up, Radley huffed and dusted himself, during which a voice behind him startled him.

"Never would I've imagined that I would see someone so desperate to fight criminals that he locks himself in to take them on." The voice said, prompting Radley to turn around.

The source of the voice was standing in the shadows with only his legs shown by the sunlight, and he stepped forward briefly as he continued, "Knocking out those nine men all on your own...it must've been something, isn't it?"

"You could say that." Radley shrugged. "Just...something I should be getting on..."

"To do something about your parents' deaths, isn't it, Mr. Crown?" The man prompted.

Taken aback, Radley asked, "How the h*ll do you know my name?"

"Well, it's not everyday that a privileged kid from America like you would end up in a prison this isolated." The man shrugged as he continued to step forward. "Besides, this place you're from - Crystal Cove - it has a sizable group in the criminal underworld that is deeply connected to here and word gets around fast."

Radley nodded thoughtfully before he asked, "Who are you?"

"The name's merely Zin, but I speak for Dr. Phineus Phibes, who himself has experienced first hand how rotten Crystal Cove is and has acquired a fearsome reputation in the criminal underworld." Zin responded. "A man of your tragic background could certainly use a path offered by him."

"What sort of path are we talking about here?" Radley frowned.

"A path that helps you...channel your survivor's guilt and use it to clean the streets of that cursed place." Zin explained as he finally stepped out of the shadows. "An enlightened path that helps better understand what...drives abnormal behaviour that led to criminality, criminality that took the lives of your parents."

Radley looked unsure. "Just what exactly does your...master do?"

"He's a man of legend, one who has made some progress in researching what drives abnormal behaviour while offering to better the lives of the unfortunate and setting them on the path that gives them purpose." Zin replied. "A man of many talents, he has provided exclusive classes to...sharpen the mind and body."

Radley exhaled, then he asked, "And what makes Dr. Phibes think that I can greatly benefit from the path he offers?"

"He wasn't that far off from where you were after suffering a personal tragedy years ago." Zin replied. "In fact, it was him experiencing the personal tragedy that drove him to researching what drives abnormal behaviour, on top of embracing martial arts and meditation as a way for him to sooth the mind."

Seeing the slightly skeptical look on Radley's face, Zin continued, "After all, there's more to the quest of preventing similar tragedies from occurring on the streets than just beating up criminals, plus this path provides an opportunity for you to find whatever it is that you're looking for. Something that would define you more than the tragedy."

Radley looked more thoughtful, and Zin turned towards the door, during which he continued, "You will be released tomorrow and should you get bored from the usual routine of beating up petty thieves, then be sure to take the road leading up to the northern slope of the mountains."

Knocking the door, Zin said, "Once you arrive at the base of the northern slopes, pick one of those white roses and carry it to the top of the mountains, and only then would you be able to find whatever it is that would define you in the years to come."

"And what will that be?" Radley asked.

"Only you would know the answer." Zin replied as he looked at Radley for one last time.

* * *

_March 12, 1969_

That evening, Sam Rogers was seated in his office at Coolsville Central as he read the preliminary case summary on the Herring beating that was submitted to him when he returned from the hospital.

He was intrigued by what the victim had to say to him and the gang, particularly with him pointing the finger to the assailants involved in supplying PEDs and match-fixing in high school football.

The lieutenant sighed and pinched his eyes gently before they darted to the glass window overseeing the squad room. It was mostly empty, as most of his men had gone home for the night, while those that were still actively working cases were out, either for dinner or chasing down a lead.

Detectives Welker and Silverman were in the latter category, having had been provided some names pertaining to the case on who would've wanted to harm Randolph Herring the most.

Considering the jock's bullying ways, the list of suspects was very long, and there was nothing regarding Red Herring's parents that could be of any assistance in narrowing down the suspect list.

Of course, both Welker and Silverman knew that the likelihood of the beating being connected to PEDs and match-fixing was very high, though Sam had instructed them to employ the cloak and investigate technique in chasing down other leads, as they all know full well who they're dealing with.

Robert "Big Bob" Oakley is the undisputed mob boss in Crystal Cove, having had been active since even before Sam and Wendy went on that fateful trip to Coolsville while on shore leave from Korea in 1952.

Like many mob bosses, whether be the Chicago gangsters that were prominent during Prohibition or the mafia active in New York, Oakley has many of the officials under his payroll, among of them being the previous chief of police Louis Strickland.

Of course, Strickland's successor, Chief of Police Rupert Gosnell, wasn't any different in being under Oakley's payroll, though since that major bust the previous year that brought down Strickland, Sam has figured out ways to deal with Gosnell breathing down his neck.

Even so, while the election of Jefferson "Skip" Jones as District Attorney of Crystal Cove County has seen some efforts in cracking down on organized crime, said efforts have been hampered by Oakley being lined up with the right people in his pocket.

In particular, two of the five-member Crystal Cove County Board of Supervisors, the sheriff of Crystal Cove County and Chief Judge Earl Thomas, are all under Oakley's payroll, and they have been instrumental in Oakley being able to get away with his racketeering.

Of course, Sam could turn towards the state or federal authorities to deal with the problem of organized crime.

However, with former mayor Francis Jones, former State Senator Barty Daggett and former Chief Strickland disappearing while in federal custody, Sam also knew that he couldn't afford to take any chances with the state authorities.

Either way, the lieutenant knew that he would need whatever help he gets if he wants to take down Oakley's criminal empire for good, all while making sure that no one else tries to fill the void once that comes to pass.

* * *

Meanwhile, over at a sandwich shop a few blocks away, the gang were finishing up with their dinner while discussing the beating.

"I really don't like this one f**king bit, guys." Fred remarked.

"About Red Herring getting the stuffing beaten out of him?" Velma asked.

"That, and what Red implied regarding PEDs and match-fixing." Fred frowned. "H*ll, if what he said about match-fixing was true, it meant that the whole previous season was a complete sham."

"I thought you have already figured that someone was involving the high school football team in match-fixing, Fred." Shaggy interjected.

"I did, but I had no d*mn idea that it would be go way deeper than just our school, Crystal Cove High and Ridge Valley High." Fred replied. "I mean, if it was indeed as deep as I think it would be in light of what we've got, then this is bound to cause an uproar."

"And when that happens, the school district is going to be placed under great scrutiny, as well as the coaching staff for the sports teams." Daphne added.

"Including Coach Clay." Fred nodded. "H*ll, the way he complimented Troy for that drug-inducted slam that snapped a bench, I won't be surprised one bit if he not only knew about the drugs and match-fixing, but also looked the other way."

"Sounds like someone who would do anything to win, regardless of the cost." Velma remarked.

As the gang continued to chat, Scooby's eyes perked up when he heard something, prompting him to get up and start sniffing.

"Oh, you don't know half the story about Coach Clay, Velms." Fred said. "Wait until I explain how much he pushes the team to succeed."

Before Daphne could open up and say something, their attention was diverted when Scooby started growling, prompting Shaggy to turn towards him immediately.

"Like, what's the matter, Scoob?" Shaggy asked.

Scooby's growl only intensified, prompting the gang to frown.

"What is it, old pal?" Shaggy pressed.

Scooby abruptly started barking towards the nearby window, prompting the gang to turn towards the window.

Through the window, they spotted a trio of dark-clothed figures gathered at the fire escape on the side of the jewelry store across the lane.

As the gang looked on, the trio managed to get onto the walkway aligned to the building's second floor and move towards a window.

"Holy s**t, you guys thinking what I'm thinking?" Velma remarked as one of the figures used a crowbar to force the window open.

Watching the trio breaking into the jewelry store from the second floor, the gang stood up from their seats in the booth.

"I'd better call Pops." Shaggy said as he moved towards the counter, but as that was happening, another customer walked through the door.

Before anyone could react, the Great Dane suddenly rushed towards the opened door, startling the customer and prompting the others to said, "Scooby!"

Shaggy turned his attention towards the front door, in time to see Scooby rushed out of the shop, prompting him to drop what he was doing and took off after him, shouting, "Scooby!"

Scooby didn't stop as he rushed towards the lane sandwiched between the shop and the jewelry store, prompting Shaggy to shout, "Scooby-Doo!"

Seeing that Shaggy wasn't going to return with Scooby anytime soon, Fred and the girls glanced at each other briefly before the blonde said, "I'd better go help Shag."

"Good idea, Fred." Daphne nodded before the blonde took off while she and Velma turned towards the counter and asked to borrow the telephone.

* * *

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